Our Song
by Samantha14
Summary: 1 of 1. It's Luke and Lorelai's one year anniversary! In three weeks! Now Lorelai must plan something spectacular, because she's already said she's got something spectacular planned. Maybe she can do something with their song....


Title: Our Song

Author: Samantha

Summary: It's Luke and Lorelai's one-year-anniversary! In three weeks! Now Lorelai must plan something spectacular, because she's already said she's got something spectacular planned. Maybe she can do something with their song....

Disclaimer: I do not own any Gilmore Girls characters; those belong to ASP. I do not own Sam Phillips or her song. I do own a copy of that CD, but not the CD and the songs and the person herself. I do not own the Dire Straits' "Romeo & Juliet", I do not own Empire Records–just a copy, I do not own Romeo Juliet–just a copy, I do not own the "Romeo (heart) Juliet T-shirt design–just an actual shirt.

Author's Note: This is a one-shot. It will always be a one-shot. It's a particularly long one-shot, so maybe it's like a two- or three-shot. This idea came to me when I bought Sam Phillips' CD 'a boot and a shoe.' Sam Phillips is amazing; she's the one behind our strummy-strummy-la-la music on GG. Go buy a CD. Seriously. The woman is great. I love this story; it took me forever to write, but it's great because of that. I hope you agree. Enjoy, and please review.

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"All right. You're all set for the weekend of May twenty-first. We'll see you then. Bye-bye." Lorelai hung up the phone and scribbled the details into the reservation book. As she finished with the last letter of the last name, she suddenly recognized the date and screamed.

"What is it _now_?" Michel asked, wandering back into the room from the kitchen.

Lorelai ignored Michel and his snooty French accent and dug for her purse and her own appointment book. She flipped three weeks ahead of the current date, and sure enough, there it was, in her own illegible glittery purple scrawl: Liz and TJ's wedding. Underneath it, in smaller, even more illegible letters, were the words: first dating anniversary, with a question mark. She threw her book back into her purse and headed out of the Inn, ignoring Michel's calls that he was going to curse in French at every single caller unless she came back right now.

"Luke!" she yelled, bursting into the diner.

"Jeez, Lorelai, what is it?" Standing behind the counter in the very empty diner, Luke looked up from whatever he was doing with his receipts and at Lorelai.

"When is our first anniversary?" she asked, slightly breathless from rushing across town.

"I dunno...the opening of the Inn?" Luke shrugged, unrattled, and Lorelai sighed and threw herself onto a stool at the counter.

"Of_ course_ not," she snapped, throwing her purse onto the counter. "Isn't it Liz and TJ's wedding? Wasn't that our first date?"

"I guess. If you wanna share an anniversary with that train wreck of a relationship." Luke started working on his receipts again, not looking at Lorelai.

"Luke!" Lorelai yelled again, making him look at her. She slightly smiled. "Is our anniversary May twenty-second?"

He smiled back. "Sure, Lorelai."

She full-on grinned and started turning around on the stool. "Great. You better be planning something spectacular. I am." She pointed at him over her shoulder, and jumped down.

"Okay, Lorelai." He watched her go, and then caught her at the door with a, "Hey." When she turned around to look at him, he continued with, "Did you want to go see that new play in New York this weekend?"

She smiled, and nodded, and ducked her head and left the diner.

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Rory's cell phone rang halfway through dinner with her roommate. She swallowed her bite and dug in her purse for her cell. Neglecting to check the ID, she answered quickly. "Hello?"

"Help! Help, help, help, help, helllllp!"

"You need somebody? Not just anybody?" Rory asked in response to her mother's yells.

"Rory, I'm serious," Lorelai whined. "This is no time for Beatles references. I'm in deep trouble!"

"What seems to be the problem?"

"My one year anniversary with Luke is in three weeks and I told him I had something spectacular planned and he needed to plan something spectacular and I have no earthly idea what on earth even remotely spectacular or even okay I'm going to do, and I'm totally and completely freaking out and–"Lorelai stopped for a breath. "God, please help."

"Mom," Rory laughed. "Calm down, okay? Breathe."

Lorelai took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Can you help?"

Rory smiled. "Um, let's see. Ooh, do you have a song?"

Lorelai shook her head, ignoring the fact she was on the phone. "Uh-uh. At least, I don't–oh, wait! We do! It's...I dunno what it is, but it's the first time we danced together, at Liz's wedding, when I realized we were dating."

"Aw, that's so sweet."

"Shut up, Rory, and help." Lorelai moaned.

"Okay, well...do something with the song."

"Does that help me?" Lorelai asked desperately.

"Well, I'm not good at this sort of thing!" Rory said defensively.

"Well, I'm supposed to be! So what's wrong with me?" Lorelai whined.

Rory smiled. "I dunno. Love?"

Lorelai stopped, shocked. Love? How could she be in love? Was she in love? She couldn't tell...was love the fluttery feeling in her stomach when Luke smiled at her across a room? Was love when she went weak in the knees as she thought of seeing Luke later? Was love the thrilling, desperate, craving feeling that made her feel like she was worthless half the time, unable to think of any reason that Luke could be with her, and why on earth he could look at her with that ecstatic look in his eyes?

Yes. This was love.

And suddenly she knew what to do.

She gasped a goodbye to her daughter and slammed the phone down, for once leaving it on the hook. She grabbed her purse again and flew out of her house, forgetting to lock or even close the door behind her. Before she knew it, she was bursting into the beauty shop, where Kirk was sitting behind the counter and reading a magazine.

"Hey, Kirk?" she asked softly, slightly out of breath from her sprint across town.

"Yes?" Kirk threw the magazine over his shoulder and onto the floor, sitting up straight and folding his hands in front of him, appearing the epitome of professionalism.

"Do you remember when you DJ'ed Liz Mariano's wedding last spring?"

"The Renaissance one?" Kirk asked.

"That's the one."

"Yes, of course. It took me three days to learn all the lingo."

"Yeah, um, do you remember the song you used for their first dance? Or do you have a set list or something?"

Kirk held up one finger and dove behind the counter. There was some rustling, and then suddenly he popped back up, a thick binder resembling the one used for the movie festival in his hands. He held up a finger again and flipped through it, and finally came up with the name of the song.

"It's 'Reflecting Light' by that Sam Phillips person. It was off of her most recent album at that point in time, 'a boot and a shoe', named after a line in one of her songs. Why?"

"No reason," Lorelai shook her head. "Do you know where I can find a copy of the song?"

Kirk shrugged. "I could call the CD store in Woodbury for you."

"Um, no thanks. I'll see if Lane has it already."

"Okay, but don't burn it. That's illegal, you know. My girlfriend had these friends that had friends that had cousins that got arrested."

"Thanks. Actually, you might be able to help me. What are you doing Sunday night?"

"Lorelai." Kirk sighed. "I don't know how to tell you this to keep your feelings intact. I have a girlfriend. I no longer–"

"Kirk," Lorelai interrupted, "it's for my anniversary with Luke."

"Oh. Well, I'll see what I'm doing."

"That's all I ask." Lorelai smiled. "I'm gonna go see Lane now."

"Good luck."

"Thank you." Lorelai waved and left the beauty shop, the bell tinkling above her head.

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"Is Lane here?" Lorelai asked almost desperately as one of Lane's bandmates–the wheezing one with glasses...Brian!–opened the door.

Brian opened the door wider and gestured, pointing Lorelai towards the only closed door in the house.

"Thank you!" Lorelai gasped, rushing by Brian. She had no idea why she was so all out of control–she had three whole weeks to plan this "spectacular" anniversary celebration. But now that she had an idea as to what she was going to do, she just couldn't let go of it. She had to see it through to the end, and only then could she breathe normally again.

She burst into Lane's room–she'd heard Joey Ramone through the door, and knew automatically Lane wasn't doing anything that Lorelai couldn't burst in on–and gasped her way to the edge of Lane's bed.

"Lorelai?" Lane asked, worried. She moved from her spot sitting on her bed and leaned over the end to see her best friend's mother, panting on her floor.

"I...need...your help," Lorelai gasped.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Lane slipped from the edge of the bed to the floor next to Lorelai.

"Need...CD...."

"What CD? Why's it so important?"

"Uh...Sam Phillips? 'Pants and socks' or something?" Lorelai looked quizzingly at Lane, hoping she could clarify.

"'a boot and a shoe'?" Lane asked, standing up quickly and heading to her CDs.

"That's the one," Lorelai nodded.

"What's this for again?" Lane asked, moving from shelf to shelf to locate the CD.

"Um, my anniversary with Luke?"

"Aw, nice," Lane commented, running her finger along the spines of the CDs and pulling out a few jewel cases and checking their contents. "Found it," she said after a pause, walking back over to Lorelai to hand it to her. "This is a great CD, by the way. What song are you going to use?"

"Ours. It's called, um...'Reflecting Light'?"

"Oh, wow, your song is 'Reflecting Light'?" Lane asked in a breathless voice, staring at Lorelai.

"Is that a bad thing?" Lorelai asked after a pause, worriedly staring back at Lane.

"God, no, that's a great song. Very romantic." Lane nodded. "You know, there are some other really great songs on there. You should try some of those."

"I will. Thanks so much." Lorelai gushed, reaching a hand to touch Lane softly on the arm.

"You're very welcome." Lane smiled. "Have fun."

"I will," Lorelai smiled, walking past Lane and out of the house.

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"So," Lorelai started, twirling her pasta around her fork, "what are you going to do for our anniversary?" She looked at Luke from under her eyelashes as she took a bite.

It was a few days later, and they had just arrived in New York City from Stars Hollow. They were eating before heading to a new off-Broadway play, because she had declared she was ravenous almost continuously the last fifty miles. They were sitting in a darkened Italian restaurant, candles scattered here and there for "romantic ambiance." It all lost a little something when the sun was still bright in the sky outside.

"Lorelai," he said in his warning tone, the one he used when she tried to sneak answers about surprises from under his nose.

She grinned and took another bite. "I'm just trying to figure out our schedule. I mean, both of our surprises can't be an all-day thing. There's only one Sunday on May twenty-second, you know."

"Is your thing an all-day thing?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"No. Actually," she laid down her fork and looked straight into his eyes, "mine's more of an 'after-dinner' thing. So, I was thinking you could have the whole day before that or whatever you wanted, and then we could get dressed up and do my thing."

"We could get dressed up and do my thing, too," he said, leaning forward so he was closer to her.

"Really?" she asked quietly, a smile starting to blossom.

"Really," he answered, leaning all the way across the table to catch her lips in his.

She smiled as they parted, and then returned her attention to her plate, blushing slightly.

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May 22, 2005 dawned bright and early, and Lorelai was up with it. She didn't even glare at the sun as it flooded her room, she was so giddy. Instead, she tiptoed from her room downstairs to Rory's, and climbed into her daughter's narrow little bed and wrapped herself around Rory.

"Hey," she whispered into Rory's ear.

"Hey," Rory said, a little groggily. "What time is it?"

"Six-thirteen."

"Wow. What are _you_ doing up?"

"Excited, I guess," Lorelai shrugged, her arms still wrapped around Rory.

"Oh, that's right," Rory said, smiling at her mom. "Today's your anniversary."

"Yeah, and all our celebrations."

"What time is Luke picking you up?"

"He told me we're having lunch, and then we're doing something secret, and then dinner, and then it's my territory. He promised me lots of food would be involved."

"Good," Rory nodded. "What time do you get to dress up all pretty?"

"He said dress up for dinner. I bought a new outfit," Lorelai said giddily. "It's this light blue that matches Luke's eyes, and then all the edges are a blue that matches my eye color, and it's long and flowy and sleeveless and beautiful. And I'm wearing my hair down and kinda curly, you know? Just like how I wore it one year ago today."

"Mom, this is so great."

"I know!" Lorelai practically squealed, resting her forehead against Rory's cheek. "It's been one whole year, and it still seems all new and wonderful and yet some of it is old and wonderful, like when we come here or go there and just sit around and talk or watch TV or listen to music or just sit there together."

Rory smiled at the serene look on her mother's face. She kissed Lorelai on the cheek. "I've very happy for you."

"Thank you–"

"But," Rory interrupted whatever gushiness was going to come from Lorelai's mouth, "if you do not get out of this bed this instant and let me sleep, you will not live long enough to get dressed for dinner." Rory rolled away from Lorelai, curling into a ball facing the window.

"Uh!" Lorelai's mouth dropped open, mock-shocked. "You're the early bird one."

"Yes, but not after you keep me up till two in the morning. Now, move. Give me at least three more hours. And," Rory paused, looking over her shoulder at Lorelai, "you should really get sleep, Mom. You've got a big day ahead of you."

"I'll try," Lorelai said, pouting slightly. Then she grinned and squeezed Rory. "Sleep well, babe." Lorelai slid off the bed and edged out of the room.

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It took almost all three hours of Rory's extra sleep time for Lorelai to get "casually" dressed. She had the hardest time deciding on pants or skirt, jeans or dress, T-shirt or blouse. Finally, at nine-thirteen exactly, Lorelai poised on the edge of Rory's bed, dressed simply but meticulously in a knee-length patchwork denim skirt and a pink T-shirt that proclaimed "Romeo (heart) Juliet". She hummed the Dire Straits' "Romeo & Juliet", and made mental notes to watch both "Empire Records" and "Romeo Juliet" soon.

"She's singing, 'Hey, la, my boyfriend's back'," Lorelai murmured, leaning over Rory and poking her softly. "Hey, Nurse, come help Juliet get dressed."

"Leave me alone, Paris. Make Madeline do it," Rory muttered softly, waving her hand in front of her face and rolling over.

Lorelai sighed and said, "This will annoy you almost as much as it will be incredibly fun for me." She readied herself and jumped onto the bottom of the bed.

"Oh!" Rory groaned, popping up and reaching out to her legs. She glanced at the clock, her mother, and her legs in quick succession, and then said, "I think you broke my legs, but at least you let me sleep."

"That's right, I did," Lorelai nodded, and then stood up and held out her arms. "Now tell me I look pretty."

"You look very pretty," Rory obediently replied, throwing back her covers and getting out of bed. "Although I would suggest shoes before you leave the house."

"I know," Lorelai said, staring down at her bare feet. "But I'm trying decide between the clunky-heeled knee-high black boots, or some sandals. And if it's sandals, I'm going to need much more help deciding. Probably reinforcements. Sookie, Lane, the 'What Not to Wear' team."

"I suggest the boots, then."

"But it's too hot for boots," Lorelai said almost immediately.

Rory smiled, and led her mother back upstairs.

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After tearing apart Lorelai's shoe collection–one that would rival two of Imelda Marcos'–and even digging through Rory's for a little while, both girls were exhausted and hungry and tired of arguing and about ready to swear off shoes for the rest of their lives. Then, suddenly, they found them–buried deep in some random closet around the house, wrapped in newspaper in a shoe box; as they were unwrapped, they fell into Lorelai's hands and she suddenly remembered them, remembered buying them for some reason or other, and always never feeling as if they were right for whatever she needed: too dressy, too casual, it was too hot, it was too cold. Now, though, they were wonderful, dazzling, amazing.

Lorelai slipped the pale pink ballet flats onto her feet, and then leaned down and wrapped the matching pale pink ribbons around her legs. She tied the ribbons into bows on the side of her legs right below her knees, the hem of her skirt only a few inches above them. She looked at Rory to see whether or not they looked good. Rory, smiling widely, nodded slowly at her mother.

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Lorelai stood outside the diner and watched as Luke bustled around, handing out food, taking money, occasionally smiling at a random customer. She smiled as he did, feeling warm all over and ready to do this, have a special lunch, and dinner, and then hopefully surprise and please him with what she had planned. She swung her (borrowed) denim purse around her head and walked into the diner.

"Hi," she said, sitting at the counter. She swung her hair behind her shoulder–Rory had pulled half of it up into a ponytail with a pale pink ribbon that matched her shirt and shoes–and smiled at Luke.

"Hey," he greeted her, leaning across the counter to kiss her quickly on the lips. "You ready to go?"

"Go?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Are we leaving the diner?"

"Of course we're leaving the diner. Stay right here, I'll be right back."

"But, wait–"

Luke just smiled and walked off. Lorelai watched as he said something to Lane, gesturing at a few tables, and smiling as he caught Lorelai's eye. She smiled back, and then watched him disappear into the kitchen, and reappear with what looked oddly like a picnic basket.

"Let's go," he said, walking over to her and putting a hand on her back.

She dropped from the stool and looked at her boyfriend. "Is that a picnic basket?"

"Surprisingly, yes," he said, showing it to her.

"What's it for?" she wondered, narrowing her eyes.

He sighed. "Lorelai, what do you think it's for? We're going on a picnic."

"But–you think it's uncivilized!"

"Well, maybe I don't mind being a little uncivilized if it'll make you happy." He smiled.

She grinned and kissed him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now let's get out of here."

"Yes, let's." She allowed him to lead her along, at first with his hand on her back, and then with her hand in his.

They ended up at the old Independence Inn grounds. The Inn had been torn down only a few months before, and Lorelai had gone the day after and sat in her car in front of the rubble and cried, softly, for hours. She still loved the grounds, though, and when she was feeling particularly stressed out, she would go and sit, either on the edge of the lake, or in the still-standing potting shed, or just a random place on the grounds.

Now, Luke spread an off-white sheet out next to the lake, and then started pulling food from the basket. He laid out hamburgers and fries and some vegetables and all sorts of food, a veritable spread, and then he withdrew three thermoses, two with coffee and one with champagne. She smiled at the champagne and grinned at the coffee, and they had their picnic.

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After lunch he blindfolded her, and she giggled at the possible dirtiness of it all, and then scolded him that he better not lead her through anything that would ruin her perfect shoes. He promised to keep her shoes perfect, and when she started complaining about things she couldn't see, he picked her up and carried her wherever they were going, the picnic basket dangling from one hand.

At one point she whispered in his ear, "I've always wanted to be blindfolded and carried by a fireman," which made him blush and her giggle, even though she couldn't see his blush.

After what seemed like forever, because she was blindfolded, and only a second, because she was in his arms, he dropped her softly down and said, "This is it." He pulled the blindfold from around her eyes and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans, watching her as she took everything in.

They were in a small garden behind a house. The house was light yellow and beautiful. It looked very comfortable and lived-in and slightly elegant and just wonderful; neither knew exactly how to describe it. The garden was a burst of color; there were flowers everywhere, middling trees growing in two corners, and larger ones growing in the other two. There were a few bushes of flowers, but mainly it was just a carpet of colors, red and green and yellow and purple and white and pink and blue and every other color of the rainbow, bursting from the ground and almost covering the small brown pathway winding its way through the garden to a bench in the very center.

Luke slipped his hand around Lorelai's and led her down the path to the bench. She slowly sank onto it, staring around them still.

"What is this?" she asked.

"My mom's garden. That's the house I grew up in," he continued, pointing. "This house is still mine, I just haven't been able to live here since...." He trailed off, but she knew where he was going. She leaned her head on his shoulder and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Anyway," he continued, "The neighbors have been keeping the garden alive. The last time I was here was to plant that tree." He pointed at one of the middling trees, the one in the north corner. "That's my dad's tree. The opposite one," he continued, pointing at the larger tree diagonally across from it, "is my tree. My mom planted it right after I was born. The one across from that is Liz's, and the last one is my mom's."

Lorelai reached up and kissed Luke softly on his cheek. "It's all beautiful," she said quietly, gazing around them.

He smiled sadly and said, "I've always thought so."

He settled his arm over her shoulders, and she settled her head on his.

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Before dinner, Lorelai got dressed in her new dress and enlisted Rory's help in getting her hair perfect. Luke picked her up a little before eight, looking absolutely sexy in a suit with–they matched–a dark blue tie. They ate dinner in his apartment, which was filled with candles and looked the most romantic it had ever been. They grinned at each other all through dinner, between bites, before bites, after bites, and before long their cheeks were so tired they both had no idea how they would ever get out of their smiles ever again.

After dinner he wandered off and slipped something in his pocket, and she asked for a blindfold type thing to use on him this time. He obliged, handing her the same bandanna from before, and she walked him down the stairs and stood him just inside the curtain as she used his phone to make a few phone calls. After she was sure everything was set up, she led him out of the diner and to the center of town, where the dance floor at Liz and TJ's wedding had been set up, and was set up again. She stood him at the edge of the floor and walked onto it, over to Kirk. She told him to start playing the song, and then turn on all the Christmas lights that were hung all around.

She walked over to Luke, pulled the bandanna off and asked him a simple question. "You wanna dance?"

He smiled back and nodded. "Sure."

She led him onto the empty dance floor as the first guitar strums started to flow around them. As Sam Phillips started singing, the lights all around them suddenly lit up.

"I feel like I'm in a fairy tale," Lorelai murmured into Luke's ear.

"Maybe you are," he murmured back.

_And the moon's never seen me before_

_But I'm reflecting light..._

"Luke," she whispered as Sam's voice fell away and violins started to play.

"Yeah," he whispered back.

"This, right here? This is where I realized we were on a date."

"It's a good thing you did," he murmured.

"And this, right here?" she repeated as Sam sang the third chorus. "This is where I realized I wanted it to be a date."

"That's even better."

As the violins played them to the end of the song, they waltzed around slowly, taking advantage of the entire dance floor, but still keeping themselves meshed together. When the music trailed off, Luke looked down at Lorelai and said, "That was the best anniversary I've ever had."

"Me, too," she laughed.

"But I know something that will make it better." He dropped one of her hands, and got into a kneeling position–on one knee.

She gasped, her heart jumping to her throat.

"Lorelai," he started, reaching into his suit jacket for what he'd picked up earlier, "I sincerely love you. I've loved you for a while now, we've just been a little dense to notice it. But now, now I've had the pleasure of being your boyfriend for a whole year. And I know, I don't ever want to stop. This has got to be the best job in the world. The only thing–_only thing_–that could make this job a little better, would be if I were"–he withdrew a tiny velvet jewelry box, and popped it open with his one free hand–"your husband."

She gasped again at the sight of the ring, put her one free hand over her mouth, and tears sprang to her eyes. "That was the best proposal I've ever heard. And I've heard a lot of them." She laughed, suddenly thrilled, and reached her free hand for Luke's. She drew him up until he was standing, and she buried her head in his shoulder for a second. When she looked at him again, she was still grinning, and her entire body seemed happy. "Yes," she said finally. "Yes, I want you to be my husband. I want to be your wife." She kissed him, deeply. "I want to marry you."

He smiled and kissed her back.

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Later that night, Rory got a call from her mom. Lorelai said she wasn't going to be home that night, but the second she got home in the morning, they were to immediately start planning: Luke had proposed, and Lorelai had said yes.

"This is the happiest I've ever been," Lorelai said quietly, not to let Luke know she was calling Rory from his bathroom. "This time it's definitely going to happen. We have a song, Rory. And it's slow and romantic and wonderful, and he proposed to me during it. You know what that means? We were meant to be." She squealed, quietly. "Luke and I are meant to be."


End file.
